


take me from the dark

by annabeth_writes



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Coping, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Meeting, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Graphic Violence, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 03:44:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17890871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth_writes/pseuds/annabeth_writes
Summary: With nowhere else to run after her world collapses around her, Sansa goes home to the family that she has left and the life she never thought she'd live again. With two of her siblings still taking part in the family business, she finds that she can't escape it either, especially when she meets a man with an equally dark past. A man with scars on the inside and out, just like her. She finds herself drawn closer and closer the more that she learns about him and the more she reveals about herself, passing the point of no return.





	take me from the dark

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this a long time ago under the ladyannabethstark pseudonym but deleted it before I ever finished. I hope to finish it now.
> 
> Title is inspired by the song - Can You Hold Me by NF

Sansa stared at the door in front of her, certain that the slightly crooked apartment number was mocking her. She didn’t know how long she really stood there before she worked up the urge to knock. Several moments passed before she heard loud footsteps, the sound of a deadbolt unlocking, and the door opened. Several emotions passed over Robb’s face when he caught sight of her but it was nothing compared to the swell of emotion that Sansa felt at the sight of his familiar blue eyes, one surrounded by a clearly forming bruise.

“San,” he said, his eyes wide.

She slipped her sunglasses off, revealing her own black eye. Robb’s eyes flashed with fury and his jaw clenched before he uttered the one question she wouldn’t answer.

“Who?”

Sansa sighed, looking pointedly at the duffel bag at her feet.

“You gonna invite me in, big brother?” she asked, purposefully avoiding the question.

Robb picked up the bag, leading her inside. It was a small apartment, much smaller than the house that they grew up in. Once he set her bag down by the couch, Sansa let him lead her into the kitchen. She sat at the table, accepting Robb’s offer of a drink. Instead of coffee or juice, he came to the table with a half-filled bottle of whiskey and two glasses. At her questioning look, he smiled slightly and began pouring.

“I think we both need it,” he said.

“No kidding,” Sansa said, taking the drink.

She usually didn’t like hard liquor but the strong whiskey grounded her somehow and she knew by the smell that it was their father’s favorite. The reminder brought about memories of their childhood and she felt tears pricking at her eyes that she refused to let fall.

“I see you still have your night job,” Sansa said, reaching out to lift Robb’s chin towards the light.

The bruise wasn’t so bad and there was hardly any swelling. She’d seen much worse.

“It pays the bills,” Robb shrugged. “You wanna talk about yours?”

She brushed her hair out of her face, knowing that it was useless to hide it.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I disagree,” Robb said before taking a long drink.

Sansa reached out her hand, closing it around his.

“I left. That’s all that matters,” she told him.

He squeezed her hand lightly, a small smile forming on his face.

“You’re all grown up,” Robb told her.

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

“We both are,” Sansa said, sitting back in her chair. “When the hell did that happen?”

He laughed as well, shaking his head. Once they settled, Sansa took another sip.

“I’m sorry to just show up like this,” she told him, pulling one of her knees up to her chest.

“Don’t be,” Robb said, shaking his head. “You can stay as long as you need. I have a spare room. It’s not much but...it’s yours”

She managed a smile, nodding at him before glancing out of the window at the night sky.

“Where’s Arya?” she asked.

“Around,” Robb shrugged.

Sansa gave him a look, narrowing her eyes before sighing heavily.

“Don’t tell me...”

“It was her choice,” Robb defended himself before she could get started.

“Let me guess, you put in a good word for her?” Sansa demanded.

“Arya’s an adult too. She’s not the sixteen-year-old that you left behind,” Robb fired back.

She stared at him with wide eyes, all of her words dying on her lips.

“San I...”

“Don’t,” Sansa said, holding up her hand. “I don’t want to argue.”

Robb’s shoulders slumped and he poured them both more whiskey.

“Arya is okay.”

“She’s fighting, Robb. I’m not even okay with  _ you _ doing it,” Sansa argued.

He gave her a look.

“You do know that even if I wanted to, I couldn’t have stopped her. It’s Arya,” Robb reminded her.

She knew that he was right.

“But she’s okay?” Sansa asked.

“She’s alive,” Robb replied. “We all are. That’s… enough.”

To anyone else, it might sound ridiculously depressing. But to them, it was an achievement. Especially after everything they’d been through.

“Bran and Rickon?” Sansa asked, changing the subject.

“They live with Uncle Benjen. Bran is in college and Rickon is playing all sorts of sports,” Robb told her.

She nearly collapsed with relief. Uncle Benjen’s house was on the other side of the city, far enough away that they might be untouched by the life that Robb and Arya couldn’t get away from.

“Rickon’s not boxing, right?” Sansa asked warily.

Robb let out a barking laugh, shaking his head.

“He’s not boxing.”

She smiled and nodded, taking another sip of her whiskey.

*****

Robb’s spare room was small and sparse but that didn’t matter in the least to Sansa. It offered her the best night’s sleep she’d had in months. Waking up to the sun filtering through the window to her left and a relatively quiet apartment was strange. Especially when Joffrey used to wake her up by… Sansa shook her head, not willing to let herself go there.

She didn’t want to follow that train of thought to the inevitable breakdown about finally leaving that part of her life behind while not knowing exactly where she was going now. Luckily the smell of bacon roused her from her thoughts and dragged her from bed. As she walked out of the room, the sound of murmurs reached her ears and nearly stopped her in her tracks.

Rounding the corner, she spotted a gorgeous leggy woman standing next to Robb at the stove, wearing nothing a ratty t-shirt that Sansa knew for a fact Robb used to wear all the time when they were in high school. There was no question of where she spent the night as Sansa scrutinized her perfectly mussed hair and the telltale hickey on her shoulder where the t-shirt was slipping down her arm.

Clearing her throat, she watched as they both turned around as if they’d been caught doing something worse than making breakfast. Sansa didn’t really help anything with her crossed arms and raised eyebrow. Unfortunately the woman at her brother’s side looked anything but intimidated, letting out a small laugh when she saw Sansa.

“You two could be twins,” she said, flicking her chestnut brown hair over her shoulder before walking over to Sansa brazenly.

Shoving out her hand, she grinned at her in a way that did not seem threatened or even embarrassed.

“Margaery,” the woman introduced herself as Sansa took her hand with uncertainty.

“Sansa,” she said slowly, glancing from her to Robb and back. “I’m three years younger than him. But you probably already know that.”

With that, Sansa pulled her hand away and walked around Margaery to pour herself a cup of coffee.

“Of course I know that,” Margaery said, sounding unfazed by her lack of welcome. “I’ve heard all about you.”

Sansa looked at Robb, who was giving her a pleading look in return. Something about it made her sigh and turn around with a forced smile, nearly wincing at how it pulled at her split lip.

“I wish I could say the same,” Sansa said, trying to make it sound as polite as she could. “How do you know my brother?”

“He saved my life,” Margaery said simply, flashing Robb a smile.

He snorted, shaking his head.

“I think that’s a bit of an overstatement Marg,” he said, transferring the bacon from the stove to a plate.

Sansa snatched up a piece before it even cooled, taking a bite and chewing it quickly. She hadn’t had much of anything to eat the previous day so her stomach was churning with hunger.

“It’s not. My tire blew out and I was stuck on the side of the road fifteen miles outside of town with no cell phone signal and no fucking idea how to change a tire. Then Prince Charming rolls up and the rest is history,” Margaery said with a shrug.

Sansa couldn’t help but feel relieved to hear that they didn’t meet at one of Robb’s fights. The last relationship she knew of that started that way ended in tears and heartbreak for her brother so it was hard not to feel protective even though she hadn’t seen him in years. She thought she might even be able to like Margaery until the girl asked her next question.

“Do you fight too?” she asked, nodding at Sansa’s black eye.

She knew that her expression darkened at the question and Robb’s wide-eyed look did nothing to stop her from tossing her bacon back on the plate and walking out with a simple “No.” Of course she felt horrible when she heard Margaery asked what she said in a very startled, hurt tone that had Robb instantly comforting her with assurances that it wasn’t her fault.

It took seven minutes for Robb to knock on her door, which had to be a record for him. Sansa didn’t answer right away, sitting against the headboard of the bed with her knees pulled to her chest. When she finally called out for him to come in, she was surprised to see that it wasn’t Robb after all.

“I didn’t want you to miss breakfast because of my big mouth,” Margaery said, holding up a plate of bacon, eggs, and a fresh cup of coffee. “Robb told me that you like it with a lot of sugar.”

She looked so apologetic that Sansa couldn’t help but nod at her, reaching out to take the food. Thankfully Margaery was dressed in jeans and a strapless floral top now, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Next to her unfair morning perfection, Sansa felt like a slob with unwashed hair and her faded pajama pants.

“It’s not your fault,” she said, glancing up at Margaery before taking a bite of eggs.

“I feel like it is,” Margaery said with a frown.

“It was an innocent question,” Sansa assured her. “I took it the wrong way.”

It was up to her to make it right. Robb was letting her stay in his house and she had no right to upset his girlfriend in return. And it wasn’t like Margaery could have known how Sansa got the black eye when those were quite common in her family.

“I want to be friends with you. Robb’s other sister is a bit… well prickly.”

Sansa nearly laughed at the description of Arya, knowing that was putting it mildly. Margaery looked encouraged by the small smile on her face, sitting up straighter.

“From what Robb has told me about you, I think that you and I could get along great,” she said hopefully.

“I appreciate that, Margaery. I really do. But I don’t know how long I’m going to be here,” Sansa said.

Her face fell and she glanced at the door before leaning in and lowering her voice.

“Did you tell Robb that?” Margaery asked.

“No,” Sansa said, frowning at her.

She sighed heavily, leaning back again.

“You should probably talk to him about it. He was really excited about you being back last night when I came in. He couldn’t wait to tell me.”

At her words, Sansa’s heart sank a bit and she looked at the door as well, wondering if she could really move on and leave her brother behind when he was that thrilled to see her.

“Besides, don’t you want to see your brothers and sister?” Margaery asked.

Sansa didn’t know the answer to that. If she did want to leave, it would be harder if they saw her first. Then there was the obvious thought that Arya may just hate her now for turning tail and running after their mother’s funeral. Just because Robb didn’t hold it against her doesn’t mean that their grudge-holding younger sister wouldn’t.

“I guess,” she finally said, realizing that Margaery was waiting on an answer.

“Well just come to lunch with me and Robb. Maybe some more time with him will make up your mind for you,” Margaery said, sensing her hesitation.

Sansa simply nodded, taking an absent minded bite of her food as she tried to figure out exactly what was supposed to happen next.

*****

One thing led to another and lunch turned into walking around the city that Sansa used to know so well as Robb filled her in on most of what she missed with occasional interjections from Margaery. She faded in and out of the conversation, memories flooding her mind at the sight of this street corner or that park. They didn’t seem to mind, letting her live in her thoughts for the most part. It wasn’t until she recognized a dingy bar with a familiar name and the questionable pharmacy next to it that she rounded on her brother with narrowed eyes.

“Arya is here,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender.

Sansa’s anger faded at the mention of her sister and she turned around to look at the faded old door that looked just like any of the thousand of doors in the city that led nowhere. Only this one was misleading.

“Does she know?” Sansa asked, fidgeting with the light blue sundress she wore.

It seemed ridiculous to be wearing it now but she only packed so many things in her haste to get away. It was either this or paint-splattered jeans with holes. She would have felt more at home in those right about now.

“I might have mentioned it,” Robb told her.

She took a deep breath and Margaery gave her shoulder a quick and surprisingly comforting squeeze. Sansa let them lead the way, wrapping her arms around her middle as Robb banged on the door several times. When it opened, she nearly stepped backwards at the sight of Jory Cassel manning the door. He’d done it so long ago when she was still in braces and her father had control of this place. Now it had passed to Robb and Jory was still there.

“Sansa,” he said, smiling at her through his shock at seeing her there.

She accepted a side hug from him, wondering what other surprises awaited down the short flight of stairs. She could hear the sound of music from where she was, pulling her in. She brushed past Robb as he stopped to talk to Jory for a moment, somehow no longer needing his comforting presence to shield her from the familiar place. Even the smell was familiar, washing over her and making her shiver as she walked down the stairs slowly. A glance over her shoulder told her that Margaery was following her, making her feel a bit better about walking into the place that she practically grew up in.

It was filled with more people than she expected, from a few people lingering by the makeshift bar to several men and women taking advantage of the punching bags and other equipment in one corner. There was even a sparring session happening in the large ring that featured in Sansa’s memories whenever she thought of all this. She didn’t remember when her father fought in the ring but she did remember perching on his lap while he counted out money and talked to his fighters.

The fact that she’d never seen anyone but Robb in the ring did not prepare her to see Arya, no longer skinny and clumsy, wrap her legs around a much larger guy and force him to the ground with her arms around his throat. She was tall, though not as tall as Sansa, and her dark hair was pulled back in a tight braid to keep it out of her face. On the other side of the ring, a man leaned over the ropes.

“You’ve beaten him.”

Arya let go after a moment of hesitation, pushing herself up and stripping her gloves off. Sansa was surprised that she was using them to practice. There were no gloves when the sun set and money started passing hands. When she turned to grab a water bottle from the corner of the ring, her eyes fell on Sansa and she froze for a second, her chest heaving beneath her sports bra and her hands twitching at her sides as if she couldn’t decide whether to hug her or punch her.

As she ducked out of the ring, Sansa prepared herself for either outcome, watching her approach warily. When Arya finally reached her, her grey eyes swirling with indiscernible emotion, Sansa let out a weak greeting that made them both wince. Then Arya’s arms were around Sansa’s shoulders and, despite her sweat-covered skin, Sansa held her back tightly. They stood like that for several moments before Arya finally spoke.

“I’m really pissed at you.”

Sansa sighed, closing her eyes.

“I know.”

By the time Robb finally walked up to them, they were separated and eyeing each other warily, figuring out all that was different.

“Who did that?” Arya asked, her eyes burning with the same fury as Robb’s as she zeroed in on Sansa’s black eye.

“She won’t tell,” Robb said before Sansa could reply.

She simply shrugged at Arya’s annoyed look, knowing that they couldn’t do anything about it now. Joffrey was three days and thousands of miles away. He couldn’t touch her here and, unfortunately, they couldn’t touch him either.

“What do you think?” Arya asked, gesturing around the room.

“It looks… good,” Sansa said, glancing around.

Arya snorted and Robb shook his head.

“We know you always hated it here,” he said at her questioning look.

“I didn’t,” Sansa said, contradicting them quickly. “I loved it.”

They looked surprised and a little doubtful but it was the truth. It was her father’s place. His heart belonged to his family but he put all of his soul into this place and his fighters. It wasn’t just money for him. It was everything. When her eyes fell on the man who stopped Arya from choking her sparring partner to unconsciousness, she found herself staring. He was wrapping tape around his wrists and hands, standing beside a punching bag now. He had a lean build but she could see strength in his muscles and knew without question that he was likely a formidable opponent. But that might have been the abundance of scars that she could see on his bare chest and back, as well as his face.

“Does that mean you’ll be coming back tonight?” Arya asked, flashing her an almost feral grin.

Sansa barely kept from shuddering, her eyes tearing away from the dark-haired man.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly.

Without her permission, her fingers lifted and she touched her fingers to the bruised skin around her eye. Arya flinched, looking apologetic much to Sansa’s surprise.

“When you’re ready then,” Robb said, noticing the motion as well. “Marg?”

His girlfriend stepped forward, looping her arm through Sansa’s.

“He has to stay here for a while but we can get out of here, head back to the apartment or whatever you want.”

Sansa knew that Robb had Margaery with her for a reason. He was probably afraid that he would come home and she wouldn’t be there. She didn’t need a babysitter but his fears weren’t unfounded considering that mere hours ago she wasn’t planning on staying.

“I’ll come over tonight after,” Arya said.

Sansa nodded, glancing from her to Robb. Before she let Margaery tug her away again, her eyes fell on the same man as before. Now he was looking straight at her, one hand braced on the punching bag. His eyes were dark and even from where she stood, she could see the haunted solemnity in them. It made her chest twist with sadness because she knew something about those kinds of emotions. It took a lot of control to tear her eyes away from him this time. It was hard to gaze into the eyes of someone as clearly tortured as her but it was even harder to look away. As Margaery led her out, she wondered who the man was and resolved to figure it out the next time she came to the gym, not even realizing that she pretty much confirmed to herself that she would be staying long enough to figure it out.


End file.
